The Wind's Kiss
by Candelabra
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MANGA CHAPTER 374 I think After the final battle with Naraku, Sesshoumaru sits alone in a clearing and is visited by a ghost, of sorts ...


A/N: Hhm ... this is a Kagu/Sess oneshot. Spoilers for manga! Set directly after final battle with Naraku (not that that's actually happened, yet, I'm taking poetic license here --- the spoiler is her death ... oops). Hope you enjoy!

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Shafts of moonlight shine down upon the still clearing. It is quiet, now. Peaceful. No battles are being fought.

The clearing is filled with driedblood and gore. Lying amongst the carnage are the still figures of humans and youkai alike. Here lies the monk with the cursed hand, there is the younger brother of the woman he loved. The hanyou and his miko survived, as did the taijiya, but they have left already to tend their wounds.

And there lies the hanyou Naraku, finally defeated. The dead miko fired the purifying arrow that brought him to his knees and made him vulnerable, but it was not her that struck the final blow.

A cool breeze runs through the clearing, rustling the gore-covered grass, setting the leaves to whispering amongst each other. Playing with the silver hair of the sitting inu-youkai who ultimately destroyed Naraku.

"_I don't care about what happened to you."_

"_Not even if I told you I've found Naraku's heart?"_

He is gazing up at the crescent moon and the stars, apparently heedless of the wind that blows against his silver-white hair. He is remembering.

"_Are you going?"_

"_Yeah ... it's fine."_

Behind him the wind is growing stronger, spinning about in the centre of the clearing. He ignores it, like he is ignoring everything else, save for the sky. A figure appears in the middle of the twister, a figure all of silver glass and spun shadows.

His heart pulses in his throat, suddenly, and he knows she is there. She drifts silently over to him with the cool night breeze, for she _is_ that breeze, given a human-like form for only a moment.

She speaks as she nears him, and her voice is surprisingly ordinary — not whispers amongst trees, not the howling of wind against cliffs — just quiet, sad, and strangely humble. Not like her at all.

"Thank you."

He does not turn, and for a moment does not speak. When he does, his voice is as neutral as he can make it.

"I didn't do it for you."

Neither of them believe it for a moment.

"All the same. Thanks."

There is a silence, and a ghost of a smirk flickers across her face. For a moment, she looks almost like herself.

"_Asshole."_

He clears his throat in the suddenly awkward quiet. The trees and the leaves and she all seem to be waiting for him to say something,

"Are you going?" he says at last.

Now she really does smile. "You've asked me that once before."

"Is your answer the same as last time?"

"Yes," she whispers.

Silence. She drifts closer, so close that he would feel her breath on his cheek if she were alive. One ghostly hand tips his face up and towards her. He does not move from her grasp, for a moment, staring into eyes that were once ruby red.

At last he jerks his head away, looking up towards the stars.

"Then go." His voice is curt, cold. She draws back for a moment, hurt evident on her face as she isalmost drawn in by his facade.

"Don't you care?" she asks quietly, but she doesn't wait for an answer. The smirk is back on her face. "Wait, don't answer. I know, I know. Of course you don't."

There is something almost bitter in her voice, and he stiffens slightly.

"After all ..." And he almost feels her sigh, though of course it is not truly her breath, just the breeze. "... the great Sesshoumaru doesn't care about _anything_. The great Sesshoumaru does not feel silly, human emotions. He doesn't feel pain or sadness. Or ..." her voice drops to a whisper "... love."

Slim white hands take his face again, tilt it upwards. Her ghostly form floats before him, gazing into his golden eyes. He tries to stare past her, into the starlight he can just barely see through her translucent figure.

He fails.

"Well, then. Too bad for the great Sesshoumaru."

And she leans down. He shuts his eyes and can almost feel her lips press against his, just for a moment, as the night breeze runs through his hair.

But, of course, it is only the wind.

His eyes open and she is gone, away into the night. A delicate, clawed hand lifts itself to his lips and touches them, remembering the wind's kiss.


End file.
